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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608600">A couple of ghosts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple'>ToxicPineapple</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Car Accident, Developing Relationships, Fluff, Gen, Ghosts, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I'm sorry gang, Love Across The Universe: Dangan Salmon Team, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, There are fluffy scenes yes, background kaemaki, car crashes, implied romantic feelings, injuries</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:20:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“How’s about it, kid? Don’t you wanna match your parents?”</p><p>“No,” Kaito replied, shaking his head. “It’s not that I don’t wanna match with you guys, I just don’t wanna be a ghost. I wanna be a pirate, or something! Something really strong!”</p><p>“Ghosts are strong,” his dad defended, pulling off the costume. His hair (which was black, like most Japanese people) stuck up a bit in the back with the static from the sheet. It looked the way Kaito’s did in the morning after he slept. His pillow always made it stick up a lot since he could never lie still. “They haunt people.”</p><p>“They also die,” Kaito stated, pouting. “And I’m not gonna die. So I don’t wanna dress up as a ghost.”</p><p>---</p><p>There doesn't have to be a reason for somebody to be afraid of something. Some fears are completely irrational; there for no reason other than the fact that it's something to be afraid of.</p><p>And some fears? Some fears have a reason.</p><p>Kaito is afraid of ghosts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Momota Kaito &amp; Momota Kaito's Parents, Momota Kaito/Saihara Shuichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A couple of ghosts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hrrk car crash tw ;3;</p><p>happy birthday kaito</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Three nights before his cousin’s Halloween party, Kaito’s dad announced, “I think we should all be matching!” and, with a flourish, dropped a paper shopping bag full of costumes on the dining room table. Kaito looked up from his math worksheet, chewing on the end of his pencil and tilting his head to the side. “There’s a new costume store across the street from my work place, and I found these fantastic ghost costumes. We’ll be the spookiest family in the room.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ghosts, hm?” Kaito’s mom poked her head into the room, a smile quirking at her lips. She was where Kaito got his hair and eyes, the warm lilac colour that girls still called pretty, like the twelve dancing princesses and other storybook tales. It was a colour that looked better on her, though, her eyes sparkling with love and with youth, a smear of batter (she was making tempura for dinner that night and Kaito could smell the dough frying from where he sat doing his homework) across her upper right cheek. “I could be a ghost. Whaddya think, buddy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaito tapped his pencil on the table, kicking his legs as he thought about it. He could almost reach the carpeted floor from his chair, now, his legs were getting so long. He’d just turned eight and a half, as of fourteen days ago, so he was gonna get pretty tall soon enough. “I don’t wanna dress up as a ghost,” he said, frowning down at the long division his sensei sent home with him. “And this work is too easy, Dad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, not all of your classmates are math geniuses like you are,” his dad smiled. “Why don’t you want to be a ghost? You could match with your mom and me!” As though it would be a sell, Kaito’s dad pulled one of the costumes out of the bag. It was a white sheet, pretty much, but designed to fit over somebody’s head in a ghost shape. The edges were embroidered with pretty gold thread, and there were eye holes on the face. Big and spooky ones with grey film to peer through. It made his dad look… well, spooky. But Kaito wasn’t afraid of dumb things like ghosts. He wasn’t afraid of anything! “Look, I look terrifying!” bragged his dad, dressing himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Real scary, honey,” his mom scoffed from the kitchen. Kaito’s mouth twitched as he imagined the eye roll his mom was probably giving. She was </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>at eye rolls. He was more like his dad in that way. Sarcasm just wasn’t his strong suit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can laugh, but I got you a costume too,” retorted Kaito’s dad. “Since it’s your sister’s son’s party, you’ll be attending too, Akari.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll wear the costume with pride.” She said it like pride wasn’t really on her bucket list, but it must have been good enough for Kaito’s dad, because at that moment he turned to look at Kaito, his eyebrows raising, like he was expecting an answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s about it, kid? Don’t you wanna match your parents?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Kaito replied, shaking his head. He erased one of his answers, noticing an error (a careless mistake; he made those a lot and sensei was constantly after him for it so he was trying to be careful, even if these equations were </span>
  <em>
    <span>mind numbingly </span>
  </em>
  <span>easy) and rewriting it so that it’d be correct. “It’s not that I don’t wanna match with you guys, I just don’t wanna be a ghost. I wanna be a pirate, or something! Something really strong!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ghosts are strong,” his dad defended, pulling off the costume. His hair (which was black, like most Japanese people) stuck up a bit in the back with the static from the sheet. It looked the way Kaito’s did in the morning after he slept. His pillow always made it stick up a lot since he could never lie still. “They haunt people.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They also die,” Kaito stated, pouting. “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>not gonna die. So I don’t wanna dress up as a ghost.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that, his dad began to laugh, reaching out and messing up his hair. It was a gesture that made Kaito feel childish, but he didn’t mind it. His dad had big and cold hands, and Kaito’s skin was always so hot that the contact was kinda pleasant. His mom’s hands were nice too, though. Soft and warm as they were. Kaito gave his dad a grin for his troubles before ducking away, doodling a little pirate ship in the margin of his worksheet. “Alright, kid. I’ll take you to the costume store tomorrow after school and we’ll get you a pirate costume, or something. Something immortal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Kaito nodded. “‘Cause ghosts aren’t immortal, y’know? And I’m too strong for that! But you guys can be honourary strong. Super </span>
  <em>
    <span>cool </span>
  </em>
  <span>ghosts. Since you’re my parents.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll come up with a whole backstory,” his mom poked her head out from the kitchen again, holding a freshly fried green bean with her special pink chopsticks. “Eiji, come taste this, I want to know if the batter is salty enough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your batter is always perfect,” frowned Kaito’s dad, but he went regardless, shooting his son another grin as disappeared into the kitchen with his wife. Satisfied, Kaito turned back to his homework, penciling in the past couple of answers. It really was too easy. But school was fun anyway. Learning and all that. And he was looking forward to going to the costume shop with his dad. He liked going out with his dad, just the two of them. His dad called it guy’s days out. Always made his mom roll her eyes. That was nice too. It was nice seeing… how his parents loved each other. Not that that kind of mushy gushy stuff was what Kaito wanted to get into while he was doing his math homework. But it came to mind sometimes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The party itself was on the twenty ninth of October, two days before Halloween. Halloween itself was on a Monday, and Kaito’s aunt and uncle wanted the party on a Saturday so they could all safely stay up an hour past nine (their usual bedtime) without being tired on an actual school day. It was a good plan, too, because the party was in the evening and Kaito wanted to go to it but he also wanted to go trick or treating. It felt like a win-win.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a good party. Lots of laughter and twice as much candy, so much that Kaito’s stomach started to hurt after a while and he had to drink a cup of water to clear the taste of milk chocolate from his mouth. His cousin had these green tea flavoured kit kats that Kaito liked but didn’t like enough to eat a whole bunch. Milk chocolate had always been his preference. It was his mom’s, too. Nice and sweet and creamy. His parents spent the whole party laughing by the wall, talking to either Kaito’s aunt or some other adults about random adult things that they wanted to laugh about. It was good they were doing that. Meant Kaito got to run around and play adventure games with his cousin’s friends. Since Kaito was dressed as a pirate, they did that. Played pirates. And Kaito conquered the sea, like he knew he would if he became one for real.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sun had fully set when they left the house, Kaito’s bag loaded with the candy that his cousin dumped into it on the way out the door. It was dark outside, but the block was bright with street lamps, so Kaito could see well enough to hop the cracks on the sidewalk while he held his dad’s hand. Him and Kaito’s mom were still talking about some adult boring stuff that they laughed about during the party, but his mom still remembered to grab the door for him, closing it after he pulled his feet inside.</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was tall enough that he didn’t need a booster seat anymore to look right out the window. His parents chattered on and off about something or another as they buckled themselves in, and his dad started the car, and Kaito’s cousin’s house disappeared into the distance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, you have fun tonight, kid?” Kaito’s dad asked, a smile in his voice. Kaito drummed his fingers on his knees, nodding before he realised that since he was sitting behind his dad, he probably couldn’t see it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he said aloud. When his dad didn’t say anything else, he assumed he was supposed to talk more, so he elaborated. “We went on an adventure! I got to be the captain.” Kaito’s friends always let him be the captain. They liked following his lead. It was probably ‘cause Kaito was such a natural born leader, so he couldn’t blame them. “You liked it too, right? You guys like those parties.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s always nice seeing my sister,” Kaito’s mom laughed quietly, spidering out her fingers on the dashboard. Since Kaito was directly behind the driver’s seat, he could see his mom and what she was doing. The looseness in her shoulders and the warmth in her eyes. She had a smile on her face when she turned to look back at Kaito. “You always have so much fun whenever you go over to spend time with Sora, maybe you two should have a playdate sometime soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. Yeah,” Kaito nodded. His mom had taken off her costume, lying it on her lap like a blanket, but his dad was still wearing it. He probably looked pretty spooky to the other drivers. They pulled up to a red light. “I wanna play more games with Sora. I don’t see him a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“We can make that happen,” his dad promised. “Did you want to trick or treat together?” The light turned green. His dad hit the gas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Kaito mused. “But since he lives so far away and I wanted to trick or treat on </span>
  <em>
    <span>our </span>
  </em>
  <span>block, it might not be--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“EIJI!” Kaito’s mom interrupted him in a scream. “THE TRUCK--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaito’s dad jerked on the wheel and the car turned suddenly right; from that direction, there were two blinding white lights, and a loud crash. Metal, splintering, crackling, breaking. There was a sharp, burning, fire-hot pain in Kaito’s temple, and everything went dizzyingly still…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...for just a moment. Kaito cracked open his eyes when all the noises had stopped, his head pounding and throbbing and his head lolled forward against his chest. It took him a moment to realise he was buckled in, that his door was crushed in way too close to him, but when he did he jerked, trying to reach over and undo his seatbelt. The pain in his right arm that came from the action made hot tears spring to his eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. He shot his head up and when his vision stopped swimming, he looked at his parents.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mom, Dad,” he could barely hear himself. There were lights coming in from his left but total darkness from his right. “I can’t get myself unbuckled. My arm hurts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no response from the front seat. Kaito swallowed hard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mom,” he paused. “Dad!” He kicked the back of his dad’s seat, as though that would help. “I can’t get undone, my head hurts and I feel dizzy-- say something!” All his breaths felt like they were coming in choked and weak, catching in his throat and lodging themselves there, like a lump. “Dad, I’m stuck, the car’s all bent and I can’t get out, Mom!” In a fit of what felt like desperation, Kaito used his left arm, undoing his buckle and pushing himself forward with his the pirate boots him and his dad bought only on Thursday, lodging himself between their seats to get their attention. “Da--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What he saw when he looked at them, once, twice, three and four times after that… was a couple of ghosts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just don’t like the fourth floor!” Kaito defended, holding his hands up as though he was surrendering. Maki’s response was a skeptical eyebrow raise, her hands folding themselves across her chest, like she was going to scold him for dishonesty. “Seriously, there’s nothing deep about it! I just, I prefer other floors, and I think it’s dumb that Monokuma didn’t think to add an elevator!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I agree,” Shuichi chimed in with a small smile. “It seems something of an ableist oversight, doesn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoever is behind this </span>
  <em>
    <span>dating show</span>
  </em>
  <span> probably knew who all the contestants were going to be before they designed the premises,” Maki said, rolling her eyes. She was incredibly sarcastic. Though the sarcasm that Kaito was used to was usually accompanied by a fond smile. It was rare that Maki ever gave any of those. “Since none of us have any physical disabilities, they probably didn’t see a need to accommodate. Besides, the stairs work fine. Momota just doesn’t want to climb past the fourth floor because he’s afraid of ghosts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am not!” Kaito protested, shivering despite himself at the mention of the word. He allowed a smile for the twitch at the corner of Maki’s lip. It was the closest she ever got to endearment, so he’d take it. “I mean, it’s a dating show! Getting trapped in an elevator is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>classic </span>
  </em>
  <span>romantic set-up, why would Monokuma miss out on the opportunity?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Rantaro, who was only passing by their table, bent over and nabbed an apple slice off Kaede’s plate on his way to the front of the room. He had a water jug on hand, so he was probably refilling it for his part of the table, off to the left of the dining hall. “To </span>
  <em>
    <span>me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>getting caught in an elevator sounds like a nightmare, so personally I’m glad he decided to refrain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get your own,” Kaede pouted, batting at his hand. Rantaro laughed, putting the slice in his mouth and walking away. It made the pianist mumble under her breath, irate, shaking her head at the dwindling number of apple slices that she still had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure Toujo-san will happily give you more,” Shuichi pointed out quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know she will, but it’s the principle of the thing!” Kaede exclaimed, slamming her hands down on the table. She didn’t seem particularly angry; stealing each other’s food was something that she and Rantaro did to each other a lot. It was their brand of friendship, Kaito supposed-- he’d called it flirting once, but all that did was prompt the both of them to give him very flat looks before stating, in unison, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m gay, Momota-kun. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Okay, yeesh. “Apple slices are innocent enough but someday Toujo-san is gonna serve up a nice bowl of tomato soup and he’s just gonna come and take it out of my hands!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Want me to take care of him for you?” Maki asked in a low voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, that’s okay!” Kaede beamed, all irritation vanishing in an instant as she leaned over to peck Maki on the cheek. “You’re so sweet for offering, though, thank you Maki!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever,” Maki grumbled, her cheeks reddening anyway. Kaito smiled. They made a good couple, even if it took him way off his guard when he saw them holding hands for the first time. Kaito wasn’t intolerant (his grandparents were never overt about any homophobia and Kaito was an expert when it came to the art of running from the truth) but he sure did have a total lack of gaydar. Kokichi mocked him for it once, calling him a rigid heterosexual, which Kaito had </span>
  <em>
    <span>resented-- </span>
  </em>
  <span>but like. He was in the closet. Kokichi probably said that to provoke him into coming out before he was ready. Which was totally not going to happen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Well, it would’ve, actually, but Shuichi ended up stepping in before he could open his big dumb mouth. Shuichi has a tendency to do that, to step in and diffuse situations before Kaito can make mistakes. It’s something to be admired, really, since Kaito makes a lot of those.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anyway,” Maki continued, her flush fading away as though it was never there to begin with. “You don’t have to be ashamed, Momota. Plenty of people are afraid of gho--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m done with my food!” Kaito announced. He felt bad cutting her off, but Maki was about to say the word again and he really just didn’t want to deal with that. She raised her eyebrows at him, as though to say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re proving my point, idiot, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he didn’t bother humouring her, just gave a noncommittal smile and grabbed his plate, walking over to stack it at the foot of the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Momota-kun, I’ll go with you,” Shuichi said quickly, getting to his feet and following him. His plate wasn’t empty, as he had half an orange still resting on it, but Shuichi never had a very big appetite. Kaito went ahead and snatched his leftovers, peeling the remainder of the orange and popping it into his mouth without bothering to separate the slices. “Are you still hungry?” laughed Shuichi, his eyebrows raising in incredulity, and Kaito shook his head, chewing and swallowing the orange before he replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah, bro, but you can’t just let perfectly good fruit go to waste!” He bumped Shuichi with his arm. “Obviously you don’t have to eat anything you can’t stomach, but if you have extra food, just pass it over to me! You’re my sidekick, y’know? It’s my job to take responsibility!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I wasn’t aware that entailed, uhm, finishing my leftovers,” Shuichi smiled awkwardly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you need, dude,” Kaito shrugged. “I don’t judge.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you don’t,” Shuichi’s tone was soft; softer than Kaito was actually willing to consciously address. He had really nice eyes. Pale grey. It was a lovely tone. And in the right lighting they seemed almost greenish, with little yellow flecks. Not that Kaito spent a lot of time looking at Shuichi’s eyes. Just… maybe a little bit more than the average person. They exited the dining hall side by side, amidst the sound of chatter from the rest of their fellow dating show contestants, and stopped in the hallway, drinking in the quiet of the space.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaito used to think the hallways here were sort of… creepy. Had a deafeningly silent, abandoned feeling. All the ivy creeping across the walls, grass and flowers and weeds growing through cracks in the ground… it didn’t bode well when he first saw it. But there was a serenity to them as well. And they seemed less lonely with someone standing by him. Or with Shuichi, specifically. It was hard to figure that out, sometimes. Kaito spent so much of his time here around Shuichi. That sort of happened by accident, though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any plans for today?” Shuichi asked. It was something of a weird question, considering that anything Kaito would have in mind would probably be related to another person-- they were, after all, there to participate in a dating show. Albeit with an extremely strange premise. Still, he was probably asking because he wanted to be a part of those plans, and Kaito definitely wasn’t opposed to that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nope! Why don’t you come hang out?” Kaito grinned. He liked getting to the point. Shuichi gave him a somewhat shy smile, nodding his head, so Kaito slung his arm around the other boy’s shoulders, and they started down the hall. “Hey, Shuichi, what’s the weirdest case you’ve ever solved?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>weirdest </span>
  </em>
  <span>case…” Shuichi mused, his lips turning down at the corners in a thoughtful little frown and his brow furrowing just slightly. Kaito liked it when Shuichi made those types of expressions. He was less self deprecating when he was distracted by a mystery, or a puzzle. Or even particularly thought-provoking question, since Kaito was the one asking the questions this time. Shuichi was very reserved, but he seemed more confident in himself when he was asked questions that weren’t directly related to himself. “Well, there was a woman who came in once who was very upset about the loss of a cat bed. You’d think there would be something significant about the cat bed, but there wasn’t. Anyway, it turned out that it was in fact stolen from her.” Shuichi shrugged. “Some people are very specific about their belongings.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” Kaito pondered that. “Do you get hired to find objects often?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, no,” smiling wryly, Shuichi shook his head, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. They made their way across the courtyard, and when they arrived at the dorms, Kaito grabbed the door to let his sidekick go in first. The thanks Shuichi murmured was quiet, but Kaito heard it anyway. He had good manners. “But she was offering so much money that my uncle felt weird about himself rejecting the case. I was the one who solved it.” In a more conspiratory voice, Shuichi said, “I think my uncle likes giving me those cases. The low stakes ones.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That makes sense,” Kaito hummed, fishing his room key out of his pocket and walking up to his door. “He prioritises your safety, even if he’s letting you help out around the agency! That murder case you solved was your first murder case, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yeah,” Shuichi’s smile became slightly sheepish. “But that wasn’t given to me by my uncle. He says I’m perfectly capable but he also doesn’t believe that a sixteen year old should be on the scene of a murder. Who would’ve thought?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaito chuckled, slipping his key into the lock and turning it. It didn’t click, which meant that the door was unlocked-- which was weird, because he distinctly remembered locking the door when he left the room that morning-- but perhaps it was Kirumi. She had a master key given to her by Monokuma so she could sneak into everybody’s rooms and clean their sheets. Kaito thought he saw her at breakfast, but she moved quickly, so maybe he just missed her leaving. Whatever the cause, he figured he ought to give her some praise, later, when he saw her again. She was pretty remarkable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Kaito pulled open the door, and found himself staring into the face of a large, white mass; something that must have fallen off the top of his door. But he knew what it was, because of the white, billowing bottom, and the large spooky eye holes--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And there was no </span>
  <em>
    <span>golden embroidery, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but Kaito jerked backwards regardless, screaming involuntarily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Momota-kun, what’s the m--” Shuichi sounded alarmed, but he cut himself off abruptly, presumably spotting the ghost that had dropped down in Kaito’s face. The abrupt nature of Kaito’s retreat had him falling back and landing on his rear, but he continued to move away, covering his mouth with his hand to stifle any further yells. “Ah, I see… Momota-kun, it’s just a stupid prank,” Shuichi huffed out, his brow creasing in concern, but when his reassurance failed to land, he turned back to the doorway and yanked the sheet down from where it was hanging, crumpling it into a ball and tossing it to the side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaito wasn’t entirely conscious of any of that, though. He screwed his eyes shut, pressing his hand so hard against his teeth that it hurt, swallowing dry and fighting back the tears that burned in the corners of his eyes. He heard ringing-- well, no, he heard metal, crashing and splintering, and he bit the inside of his cheek so hard that he tasted iron, but he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>smell </span>
  </em>
  <span>it too, as strong and poignant as it had been eight years ago--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And his right arm hung limp at his side even though it was perfectly capable of moving. There was a thin white scar across his temple where his head banged into the door, and it never hurt to touch, but nonetheless his head was aching. If Kaito opened his eyes (though he didn’t dare) he thought he would see two white ghosts standing in front of him, tall and shrouded in white, staring at him with large, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sad, </span>
  </em>
  <span>grey eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a rush of wind beside him, a cold hand curling around his wrist and pulling his arm away from his mouth. The other, his right, was lifted too, and he felt chapped lips pressing into his palm, his wrist. They stayed there for a moment, against his pulse point, a lingering (and somewhat stabilising) kiss. Kaito knew he was crying, felt it in the way moisture dripped off of his chin and landed on his shirt, but he didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to face the ghosts that were always in his peripheral, didn’t want to see their sadness and know what they knew, that it was his fault they were gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Momota-kun, it’s okay,” Shuichi said, his breath dancing across Kaito’s wrist. His voice was slightly muffled but Kaito still understood him. They were too close together for anything else. “I imagine it was Ouma-kun, did you know he can pick locks? He rigged up a sheet up on your door to scare you. That’s all, you’re alright.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shuichi,” Kaito choked out. He kept his eyes screwed shut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Shuichi sounded worried; he had a significant way of doing that, sounding worried. Kaito knew his eyebrows were screwed together and he was frowning, light but heavy all at once, and later there would be a severity in his grey eyes, an anger, even-- but not towards him, probably. Towards Kokichi. (It wasn’t really Kokichi’s fault, though. He didn’t know.) “Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew what he’d see if he opened his eyes. He knew what would be standing over him, staring at him, dripping deep crimson onto his face and his hands, like they always did late at night, or even in the quiet hours during the day. They never </span>
  <em>
    <span>left, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but it wasn’t like they had any reason to. If they wanted to haunt the person who doomed them, who abandoned them, then that was their choice. He just wished they’d show him their eyes, so that he could see the warm lilac and the chocolate brown. Looking at photographs was never good enough to remind him of what it felt like seeing those eyes in reality, and whenever they visited him in his dreams they were always covered in those sheets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Momota-kun,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not gonna die. So I don’t wanna dress up as a ghost.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Momota-kun, can you hear me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But you guys can be honourary strong. Super </span>
  </em>
  <span>cool </span>
  <em>
    <span>ghosts.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Momota-kun--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Since you’re my parents.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>EIJI, THE TRUCK--</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mom, Dad! I can’t get undone, my head hurts and I feel dizzy--</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Momota-kun, say something!” Shuichi’s voice was raised. Kaito had never heard it that way before. He opened his eyes then, jerking back in surprised, and the desperation that was in Shuichi’s eyes faded, something else (more muted) replacing it. His brows tilted at the corners, sad and sorry, and Kaito bit the inside of his cheek, felt his stomach rolling over. “I-- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, you just, you weren’t responding, and I--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Kaito cut in, and Shuichi stopped talking, mouth still ajar, like he didn’t remember even to close it. “I’m-- sorry, bro, I didn’t mean to make you worry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Shuichi said quickly, and he lifted a hand, the one that wasn’t holding both of Kaito’s, like he wanted to touch his face, but his fingers didn’t land. Kaito wished they would. Shuichi’s hands were cold but they felt-- soothing-- against his skin-- because it was always so warm all the time… “You didn’t do anything wrong, I shouldn’t have-- ah,” he smiled, a bit wryly, and Kaito watched his brows tilt in that self deprecating way they did. “Are you alright? I’ve never seen you… uhm… react that strongly before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I--” Kaito was going to say that he was fine, but he wasn’t. And he didn’t want to lie about it, not to Shuichi. (Even though Shuichi had enough going on, without Kaito’s problems to deal with.) “I’m not,” he replied eventually, his voice lilting unnaturally, and Shuichi opened his mouth, like he was going to speak. “But I don’t want to talk about it-- I don’t--” he swallowed past the lump in his throat. Shuichi looked blurry through the tears that were starting to form again in his eyes. “I just don’t want to think about-- about gh--” he couldn’t make himself say it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I understand,” Shuichi murmured. Kaito had to wonder about that. If he really </span>
  <em>
    <span>understood. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He didn’t even know what was wrong. (He didn’t see those ghosts standing behind him, looming back there, watching, always watching.) But maybe he understood enough. This time, when Shuichi reached out to touch his face, Kaito pushed himself forward, and those fingers slipped themselves onto the side of his face. His hand was dry, and cool, and he brushed his thumb underneath the pad of Kaito’s eye, catching a few tears as they escaped. “C’mon, let’s go to my room instead. Uhm, I found Ponyo in the AV room downstairs, and I haven’t seen it in a while, so we could use the TV in there if you’d like, and--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kaito interrupted, a bit more gruffly than he meant to. Shuichi’s smile was soft, though; unoffended. “Yeah, that sounds great, sidekick,” he cleared his throat, and allowed Shuichi to tuck his arm underneath his shoulders, pulling him up to his feet. It was silly relying on another person in that way, especially because Kaito was significantly taller than Shuichi was, but it wasn’t… bad, to rely on someone. Not on Shuichi, anyway. Perhaps it would be bad later. Kaito lacked the foresight to be able to tell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But the ghosts were quiet, when Shuichi was there. So Kaito wasn’t going to complain, no matter what.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>me: what if i made a silly, harmless part of canon into something really angsty</p><p>and then i DID</p><p>anyway happy birthday kaito i'm very sowwy</p></blockquote></div></div>
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